


A recipe for fond memories

by BadTitle



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dealing With Loss, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadTitle/pseuds/BadTitle
Summary: John and Karkat try to recreate their favorite childhood foods.





	A recipe for fond memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vel16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vel16/gifts).



On your last biweekly movie night with John, the two of you sat down to watch Ratatouille which lead to a discussion about favourite childhood dishes. 

He tells you about how much he used to love it when his dad made chicken dumpling soup from scratch and how much he misses it now. You watch him grow small in his seat as the silence fills around you both. You hate sad John a lot more than most kinds of John so you suggest making it together and his obnoxiously blue eyes light up and something inside your chest eases. John one ups you and says you should cook both of your childhood favorites together. 

Which is how you've ended up across town at Troll Walmart, dragging John away from a horn polish display before he gets the two of you thrown out for insipid asshattery. 

“Focus, goddammit it, we're here on a mission,” you scold him and resist the urge to stomp your foot.

“You can't blame me for being curious! This is my first trip to Troll Walmart -”

“It's about to be your last and most permanent trip to Troll Walmart if you don't stop sticking your sniffnodes in every sticky, fago smeared crevice of this commerce station because I will abandon you in it. What's the next thing on the list?”

“Haha, OK. The next thing is uhh… grub paste, hyphen extra crunchy?” 

You pull your cart up to the grub paste section and barely check the label before throwing one in the cart. You always get nervous in heavily populated areas, but you're especially uncomfortable walking around supply shopping with John. 

Not just because of his cultural ignorance but also because getting supplies with another troll is something you only do with a pale or red partner. A fact which you have conveniently forgotten to tell John. You know you could have just gotten the supplies on your own but John started on about how he wanted to go with you and your delusional traitorous bloodpusher couldn't resist. 

But now all you want is to drag his ass home before the guilt forms a hole under you and swallows you whole. You are trying to be respectful of John and his nonsense hang ups about gender, but as great Troll Selena Gomez once slammed, the pusher wants what it wants.

And yours wants the idiot gawking at the grub paste ingredient list. 

“Beetle shavings?!” he shouts as you bury your face in your hands to hide from the amused stares.

\---------

You end up elbow to elbow in your tiny kitchen with John making occasional deviations from the recipe on his phone. 

You’re in charge of getting the dough for the dumplings ready, but it’s proving difficult as dough keeps getting trapped under your claws. You were going to cut up the vegetables but John claimed you were “slaughtering the veggies” and downgraded you to dumpling duty.

You frown at him frowning at a pot of beige mush.

“Uhh I think it’s done?” he prods at it. 

“You think?”

“I mean, I guess? To tell you the truth, I guess I kind of don’t remember what it looked like at this stage. I kinda just remember eating it and liking it.” he frowns. 

“...it smells edible, and it uh, kinda looks like the same goop in the picture,” you pathetically try to comfort him. 

“Yeah” he says as he adds the group to the rest of the pot. “Ok, now for the dumplings” 

 

He shows you how he breaks off a small palm sized piece of dough, forms it into a ball and tosses it into the soup. You try copying him but you’re left with a strange lumpy mess that John thinks looks “kind of like Matthew Mcconaughey” and you both use up the rest of the dough making stupid shapes and then “dough portraits” of each other.

While the rest of John’s soup boils you show him how to slice up the starchy roots for your dish. It’s not very complicated, in all honesty, but Crabdad wasn’t much of a cook and you weren’t that good of a cook as a kid. You did have a good root patch that grew near your hive and when the season came that they’d ripen Crabdad would harvest them for you and you’d make a hash out of them and whatever you had left in your cupboard. Usually that meant a hash of root vegetable and grub paste, but occasionally you’d get some grub steak and fry it all together.

John turns his nose up at the grub paste but doesn’t say anything when you add a healthy dollop in. You had to put up with the pastry, so John gets to put up with grub paste. 

John goes to check on his soup and tastes a spoonful. 

“Oh man, ok, it’s not exactly how I remember but you’ve got to try this,” he says and turns to you with the spoon in his hand. 

 

He blows on it for a bit until you realize what he’s about to do. He raised the spoon up to your lips and waits expectantly.

Your face heats and you freeze in place. 

John just stares at you patently. “Come on, it's not bad, I promise,” he coaxes you. 

You can't though, John has no idea what he's offering. He starts to draw the spoon back and you think he's given up when he starts to make a ridiculous buzzing while flying the spoon through the air.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?”

“It's a motivational technique for you to try my soup, man. Here comes the plane, loaded up with all the passengers ready to make a safe landing at Karkat Island.” 

 

“I'm supposed to be motivated by eating a plane and all of the people on it?”

“Uh, well no. I think it's like mostly a distraction technique.”

“I'm feeling very distracted. I'm pretty sure I can smell my dinner burning.”

“I mean, I guess if you really don't want to try it that's ok,” he lowers the spoon again with that kicked puppy look that almost makes you kick him for real because you know he is playing you like a fiddle.

“I didn't say I didn't want to try it-” 

You are interrupted by a warm spoon pressed up against your lips by best mistake of your life John Egbert.

You open your mouth accordingly and almost forget to taste what's on it. 

It's actually not bad, as far as human food is concerned. It's got a much softer texture than the grit of a nice grub paste, but the flavor is pretty good.

“Well?” he says. 

Your face falls.

“Wow, that bad?”

“No… it's not, no, it's fine. That's, there's something I think I need to tell you. I probably should have told you way before but past me is a jackass and present me is gonna just have to pay that fucking toll I guess.”

John looks at you quizzically. 

“This? This whole cooking together thing. It’s a… thing for trolls. Like the kind of thing you do with a moirail or a matespirit. It's not the kind of thing we usually do with other trolls outside of that. I shouldn't have asked you to cook with me, as a friend. I know it's not a big deal for humans so I figured I'd be ok but it's not ok, and you need to know and I'm sorry. The securing supplies together, the cooking, and especially this!” you gesture to the spoon, “it's not really a platonic activity. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just thought, or I guess didn't think how shitty-”

“Karkat. Karkat! It's fine, it's fine it's fiiiiiiiine,” he stops you. “It's fine, dude. Like you said this stuff isn't a big deal for us so it's kinda hard for me to get offended. It'd be kinda like if I told you humans popped a boner everytime you flipped then off so I kept doing things for you to flip me off.”

“Yeah… I, wait. Do you do that?”

“Hahaha, no dude. That's weird.”

“Oh. You're not mad?” 

“Nah. I guess it doesn't bother me if it's you.” He dips the spoon back in as if to get another bite and swipes it across your lips instead. “Oh, sorry, I missed,” he says and presses his mouth to yours as your pusher boils over. 

His tongue does a long swipe down your lips before sliding away from you. 

He looks at you as if he didn't just light you on fire and hide the matches. 

“Good?” he asks. 

“Oh fuck,” you say and go back for seconds. 

You are pretty sure you’re dreaming and you’re almost not willing to question it when he drops the spoon and puts his arms around your lower back.

“Hehe, is this just like in one of your troll romances novels?” 

“Yes, John, this is the part where you explain what goes on in that thick beautiful skull of yours that made you decide to put your fronds on me all of a sudden.”

“I dunno, I mean, it’s not really an all of a sudden thing? I think maybe I felt this way a long time ago but it was kind of hard to make sense of it, and then… uh well things happened and I couldn’t really think about romance for a while. I also didn’t really know how you felt? But then you were just standing there blushing and rambling and it just, yeah.”

“I do not fucking blush” 

“Haha, dude you are doing it right now.”

“John I can think of at least 10 better things your lips could be doing right now than spewing bullshit at me” 

He leans back towards you, “I’m a great multitasker” he mumbles into your aurel shell.

Your buldge throbs. 

You let him trail kisses and soft bites down to your shoulder as you scratch your claws lightly down his back til you feel him shiver. You really want to touch his shoulders without his shirt on but you also don’t want to fuck near an open flame. You drag him into your living room and lay him down onto the couch so you can climb into his lap. 

You feel an idiotic strike of panic when you realize he may be able to feel how wet you are through your jeans before you realize how stupid that is. John’s here, under you, willing, maybe a good bit more than willing if the ridged lump in his jeans is any indication. 

You test a hand over the front of his bulge and hear him moan in approval. 

“John,” you hesitate. “Is this, like, a thing that is happening.” You are eloquent as fuck.

John smiles up at you and pulls you down for a kiss. 

“Yeah, I mean, if it’s a thing you want to be happening?” 

“What I want to be happening is for these clothes to come off,” you offer. 

“I think what these clothes want is also to come off and then join your pants over there on the floor.”

“The clothes want what it wants” you say, and mercifully John doesn’t ask and starts helping you strip down.

You have a general idea of what to expect from a human bulge, and while John’s is probably average for his species, it’s still big enough to cause you trouble if you’re not careful. Your bulge however, fucking thrilled at the idea of meeting a new friend, and tries to wrap it’s way around John’s as he pulls you back down on top of him.   
You’re pretty sure John is also pretty happy with the way he’s biting his lip as he stares down at your coiling bulge.

“It seems excited to meet me,” he says.

“Remind me to introduce you to my nook later” you say. 

He laughs, “Why wait?” and drags his fingers against the lips of your nook. You weren’t prepared for sensation down there yet and a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “Hello there,” he says.

You let him tease around the folds of your nook as your bulge tightens around him. His fingers hook up inside you and you bear down hard. It feels good, but it also heightens the feeling of needing more. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, John please,” you beg, “I need. Fuck. I need you.” 

He pulls you down for a deeper kiss this time and helps you corral your bulge so you can lift yourself up and over the tip of his. You whine as your nook stretches to envelope him. You hear John hiss below you once you start to sink down.

“Ok, wow that’s tight. Maybe just, go slowly,” he says as he kneads your hips. 

By the time you’re fully seated you feel both stuffed and desperate. John’s bulge may be large but it doesn’t move like a troll’s and the inner folds of your nook are frantic for stimulation. 

“John-”

He shushes you, “I’ve got you,” he says as he starts to move beneath you. 

The walls of your nook are stretched wide to accommodate his unfamiliar shape and when he starts to withdraw you whine for more before he thrusts back up and into you.

The constant stuffing and emptying of your nook is keeping you on the edge, desperate for just that little bit more to push you over. 

You can tell John isn’t going to last much longer as his thrusts become uneven and hurried. 

 

His hand comes down off of your hip to squeeze your wiggling bulge and you look down at him and see him looking back up at you. He grins with his stupid beautiful buck toothed face and that does it, you shove him as deep into your aching nook as he’ll go before you release all over the both of you. 

\------

You burned the hash.

You don't even mind.


End file.
